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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27642149">clarity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachcitt/pseuds/peachcitt'>peachcitt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fix-It, M/M, i mean. what more is there to say</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:15:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27642149</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachcitt/pseuds/peachcitt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>”I’m not going to miss him,” Dean said, swallowing down the lump in his throat and the burning in his eyes. “I’m not gonna get the chance to miss him, because we’re getting him back.”</p><p>or</p><p>have i watched spn past, like, the seventh season? no. did i need to exercise this from my body? yes</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>clarity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>just a clarification:</p><p>i have no idea about what is happening in supernatural canon other than what i have gleaned in tumblr memes and text posts. is god their enemy? i have no idea. is the kid they’ve adopted named jack?? it’s a j name isn’t it?? they’ve adopted a kid right???? sorry if it’s wrong i did absolutely zero reasearch for this</p><p>but really who gives a shit about canon anyways. not me. i didn’t even watch the show past season seven and haven’t watched an episode in years. welcome to my first spn fic.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean had taken a lot of shit, some of it deserved and some just because God decided to fuck him in the ass for entertainment. This was a known fact.</p><p><em>However,</em> this probably took the cake. He baked the cake for years, taking his sweet time icing it and putting the cherry on top or whatever, and this goddamn <em>situation </em>took it straight from the plate and threw in the garbage disposal. Or super hell. The void. Whatever.</p><p>Bad metaphor.</p><p>The point is that Dean felt quite close to having the power necessary to kill God. Not because he thought he was strong enough but because he was certain that, upon seeing His holy ass, he would automatically be filled with the amount of strength necessary to kill God. The rest of the world be damned.</p><p>Wasn’t it fine, after saving the world countless times? Wasn’t he allowed to be selfish, to just not think about anything or anyone else for one blissful, terrible moment?</p><p>“Dean.”</p><p>Dean stared through the windshield of the Impala, eyes blurring through the haze of the headlights and the spinning, running road beneath them. </p><p>“Dean, come on.”</p><p>He was stagnant and the rest of the world was crying beneath him, asphalt tears slipping beneath tires and feet alike.</p><p>”Dean, we really should talk.”</p><p>He swerved the Impala off the road, fingers tight on the steering wheel, and he stared hard at the nameless trees and forest and grass in front of them. As if he might find some meaning there.</p><p>He could feel Sam’s eyes, persistent, on him. He clenched his jaw.</p><p>”I don’t want to hear it if it’s not about finding God and shooting him with a-a god bullet, or whatever.” That, at least, he could attempt to understand.</p><p>”There’s no such thing as a god bullet,” Sam said, and Dean threw his hands up.</p><p>”Really? <em>That’s </em>what you’re latching on to about that sentence?” Dean snapped, turning his head to Sam and feeling the heat well up in his throat. He swallowed it down viciously, blinking hard. “You don’t want to dive deep into my feelings, or bring up the theological and debate on the ethics of killing God, or whatever? None of that is coming to mind?”</p><p>Sam pinched his lips together.</p><p>Dean kept going, against his better judgement.</p><p>”Because, really, Sammy, I’d <em>love </em>to hear it. I’d love to hear you tell me that you know Ca- that you know he meant-“ He head his voice falter, and he pushed on. “I’d love to hear you tell me about the ramifications of killing the piece of shit bastard who literally created everything on earth, about the meaning of a being who is supposed to be benevolent and kind screwing us over from day <em>fucking </em>one, who continually put people to love in our path only to murder them, like we’re a fucked up game of the goddamn Sims. Really, Sammy, I’d love to hear it, so just go for it.”</p><p>”I know you miss him,” Sam said, and Dean immediately turned his head so that he was staring at the windshield again.</p><p>He saw Sam open his mouth out of the corner of his eye, and he pushed open the car door, swinging himself out of the Impala and slamming the door behind him. He looked up at the sky and wished he had something to punch.</p><p>It took a moment, but eventually Sam got out of the Impala, walking hesitantly over to the driver’s side and leaning against the Impala. He reached over and put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, steady and vulnerable. “It’s okay to miss people you love.”</p><p>Dean shook his head.</p><p>”Dean,” Sam said softly, but he just shook his head.</p><p>”I’m not going to miss him,” Dean said, swallowing down the lump in his throat and the burning in his eyes. “I’m not gonna get the chance to miss him, because we’re getting him back.”</p><p>Sam looked at him for a long moment. And then he nodded.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The specifics evaded him, like they normally did when it came to the magic mumbo-jumbo shit that non-humans could do. What he saw didn’t make sense to him, but that was fine. Because he-</p><p>They’d sat Jack down and explained what happened. Explained what they wanted him t try to do. And he’d started without a moment’s hesitation.</p><p>And they watched. </p><p>And waited.</p><p>And watched.</p><p>And waited.</p><p>And it was excruciating, that wait, but Jack didn’t give up, even though Dean was sure it pained him.</p><p>And then, after hours that felt like decades, he was there.</p><p>Cas was there.</p><p>Jack passed out, and Sam rushed over to him. Cas looked at Dean, and he’d smiled, and then he’d collapsed to the ground.</p><p>The days after that blurred together, even though they seemed to last for millennia. Jack was alright after a day and some chicken noodle soup, but Cas was stuck in some sort of waking nightmare. He would scream, fight, cry, shake - and it hurt, to have to see him like that. But Dean couldn’t leave him alone.</p><p>Sometimes Sam or Jack would have to tear him away from Cas, from the room, to remind him to eat or drink water. </p><p>A moment of clarity came two weeks later. The screaming had begun to slip into catatonic states, eerie moments of stillness in which Cas would stare, unseeing, at the wall. It was in one of those moments that Dean was taking the time to shave Cas’ face, a radio playing an old rock song from the 90’s over in the corner.</p><p>And then Cas blinked, and he turned his eyes, bright and clear, to Dean.</p><p>”Dean,” he said, and his relief was so strong that it nearly knocked Dean off his feet.</p><p>”Cas,” Dean replied, lowering the razor, feeling that heat gather up in the back of his throat, that familiar rise of emotion in his chest.</p><p>Cas seemed to take a moment to look around the room, to consider the handcuffs dangling from the headboard of the bed, the rumpled sheets and Dean’s haggard appearance. He touched a finger to the shaving cream still on his face, sniffing it carefully.</p><p>His eyebrows furrowed. “This is yours,” he said, gesturing to the shaving cream.</p><p>Dean let out a surprised laugh, tears pushing themselves against the backs of his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. Sorry, I didn’t really think about it when I picked it up. It’s cheap and it doesn’t smell great, so I hope it isn’t-“</p><p>”I love it,” Cas interrupted, and then he was gone again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Over the next few weeks, those moments happened more frequently. Cas would come back - long enough for Dean to ramble about stuff that didn’t matter - and then he would slip back in nothingness for a bit. It broke Dean more and more, just as it gathered him up whole to see Cas looking at him, really looking at him.</p><p>Sam and Jack went out hunting a few times, but Sam never asked him to come, and Dean never offered. They both knew his place for right now was by Cas’ side.</p><p>And then one day Dean woke up to the smell of burnt toast and Cas’ eyes on him.</p><p>He sat up, his back screaming. He’d fallen asleep the night before sitting in a chair pulled up to Cas’ bedside, leaning over with his head pillowed in his arms. Cas was staring at him as he rubbed his eyes, chewing on dry burnt toast and letting the crumbs fall back down onto the plate.</p><p>”Sam came in earlier and gave me this,” he said, gesturing down to the plate. “I apologize, but I told him not to wake you up. I figured you needed the rest.”</p><p>”Right,” Dean said, looking over Cas’ appearance. His eyes were clearer than he’d seen them in a long, long time. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>”Better,” Cas said. He considered for a moment. “Hungry.”</p><p>Dean stared at him. Cas stared at him back, as if waiting to hear something in particular.</p><p>”I can get you more toast,” Dean offered.</p><p>”That would be nice,” Cas said. He continued to stare at Dean.</p><p>”With jam?” Dean asked.</p><p>”I remember what I said to you,” Cas said, and Dean blinked. “I meant it. I love you.”</p><p>Dean stood up. “There’s a diner,” he said, but that was definitely not what he meant to say. “Down the road. I could get you a burger.”</p><p>Cas smiled. “Sure, Dean.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It didn’t come easy until a few days later, after they were certain Cas was better and intended to stay that way. Sam and Jack had long since gone to sleep, and Dean was talking through their (admittedly shitty) plan to find God and kill Him.</p><p>Cas nodded slowly, looking up at the stars above them. They were sitting on the hood of the Impala, and Dean found himself thinking less and less about revenge and rage as he stole glances at Cas’ thinking face.</p><p>”It’s a bad plan,” Cas said after a while, and Dean couldn’t help but snort.</p><p>”Well, yeah,” he said. “What can two humans, an angel, and an angel-human hybrid do against the all-powerful douchebag who created the world we have the misfortune of living in?”</p><p>Cas hummed. </p><p>“It’s a bad plan,” he said again, “but I’ll follow it. I’ll follow you anywhere.”</p><p>Dean swallowed, made one of his stolen glances last a little longer, long enough for Cas to notice and return his gaze. “What if you die trying?”</p><p>”That’s never stopped me before. That’s never stopped any of us.”</p><p>Good point.</p><p>Dean turned and pressed his palms flat against the hood of the Impala, closing his eyes for a moment before turning his eyes back to Cas, who was watching him carefully - just as carefully as he always had, like he wanted to read Dean’s thoughts through his micro-expressions, like he wanted to commit Dean’s face to memory.</p><p>”What if...” Dean started, faltering a bit. “What if I decided to leave hunting behind? What if I got tired of the hate and the killing? Would you... would you follow me then?”</p><p>”Yes.” His answer was immediate.</p><p>And Dean kissed him.</p><p>Really kissed him.</p><p>Cas grabbed onto his arms in shock, but then he was kissing him, too, and they were-</p><p>Well, they were kissing.</p><p>Ferocious in its gentleness, sinful in its holiness. Kissing.</p><p>After this, Dean didn’t know what to do, or where to go. Whether to keep hunting, to save lives, or whether to stop hunting and save his own life - he didn’t know. But he did know that he was here, in Cas’ arms, and that was good.</p><p>He loved him, and that was all he needed to know.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>that was my first spn fic thank you. it was also probably my last spn fic. double thank you. </p><p>it’s 4:51 in the morning, i wrote this straight into the ao3 box typing on my phone, i have a class at 8:30 in the morning, i genuinely believe i am unwell. why am i here you ask. i do no know the answer. this was an itch thag needed to be scratched. </p><p>if this is out of character i deeply apologize but i think that it’s also okay. also i will not be correcting typos now or in the forseeabke future. please understand. what matters is not that this is good, what matters is that it’s out of my head.</p><p>goodnight spn stans i love and respect you and also im sorry</p></blockquote></div></div>
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